


Five Times Alfred and Martha Tried to Be Matchmakers (and One Time They Didn't Have to)

by Aniel_H



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DCU
Genre: 5+1 Things, Crack, F/F, Flirting, Fluff and Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:45:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6509158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aniel_H/pseuds/Aniel_H
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Alfred and Martha decide Bruce and Clark are perfect for each other and team up to set up the two caped idiots romantically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Alfred and Martha Tried to Be Matchmakers (and One Time They Didn't Have to)

**Author's Note:**

> Few days ago, I made [this](http://brooose-wayne.tumblr.com/post/142202982953/i-want-a-fic-where-mama-kent-meets-bruce-and) post on tumblr where I wanted a fic where Alfred and Martha would play matchmakers for Clark and Bruce but because nobody offered, I did it myself. Please ignore logic and let's pretend Clark never died. Any mistakes are mine, as usually, and I hope you'll enjoy it! Btw, it's 2 in the morning here so there very well might be some mistakes... I'm going to bed now.

It was one of those meeting you had never expected but one that influenced you for the rest of your life.

Martha Kent was kidnapped by one of Clark's enemies but the alien had been unfortunately off the planet. Bruce who Clark had tasked with protection of his mother headed to save her. He helped her to get into the Batmobile and then returned to the abandoned building to take out the rest of the hired mercenaries.

Martha sat in the car, feeling very out of place and eyeing the strange, colorful buttons on the dashboard in front of her.

"Are you there, sir?" came a voice suddenly, and she jerked.

There was a short pause. Then the voice asked again: "Sir?"

"Um," Martha gulped nervously. "He's not here. Batman is still in the building and-"

Neither Martha nor Alfred had later any idea how it happened but suddenly, they were talking like two old friends who knew each other for years. True, most of their conversation was about how terrible it was to be responsible for their caped hero but they had to admit they had a lot in common. Before they knew it, they were also complaining about how those two idiots were absolutely unable to get and stay in a good relationship.

"They should really just marry each other!" Martha half-joked.

After her words, neither of them spoke, but the silence wasn't heavy, it was one of those when it was clear that both of them were too busy with thinking.

"Well," Alfred said also only half-joking. "It seems like we should do something about it."

Martha smiled.

And that was how they came up with a plan.

 

**1.**

Their first attempt was pretty clever. Martha unyieldingly called Bruce (Alfred gave her the number) every day to invite him for a visit in Kansas on her farm as a thanks for him saving her not once but twice. Of course, Bruce being Bruce refused at first. He told her that he didn't need her thanks, that it wasn't anything worth thanking for, but when Martha wanted something, she got it. Plus, Alfred was on her side and slowly manipulated him with mentions about how good Kansas steak had to be and how he would give everything he had to visit such a beautiful area.

Finally, Bruce said yes. That was how he ended up sitting in his car in front of the house saying grumpily: "This is bullshit."

He was still mentally preparing himself for whatever might wait for him inside when the door opened and Clark Kent in all his muscled glory stepped out, huge smile on his face.

"So, you're here," he called, loud enough for Bruce to hear him from inside the car.

The billionaire only rolled his eyes, and stepped out. If anything, Clark's smile grew wider.

"Ma is waiting inside," Clark told him. "She says the dinner is almost ready and you should come in."

Bruce only grunted in response and followed the other man in the house. The house was big and Bruce wondered if Martha didn’t get lonely sometimes now that her son lived in Metropolis. But it had the nice smell of home and the whole place gave him warm, welcoming vibes.

"How's Alfred?" Clark asked curiously.

"He's fine," Bruce replied, his voice dry. "I talked to Diana. She says she found a clue to where the other metahumans could be. If we're lucky, soon enough we will be able to-"

"Boys," Martha looked out of the kitchen, smiling. "Please don't talk about work when we're just about to eat. Clark, darling, could you please set the table?"

"Of course, ma," Clark obeyed and Bruce watched him with fascination. He always sounded and looked so different when he was out of his Superman uniform, and his voice was slipping into the Kansas drawl. It sent shivers down Bruce's spine and he wasn't sure whether that was good or bad.

"Sit down," Clark told him kindly, pulling one of the chairs to give Bruce space, and then disappeared into the kitchen to get the tableware.

"Do you want help?" Bruce asked loudly so the other man would hear him.

"No. You're the guest. Just sit down and give us a minute to bring the meal."

Bruce sat down and really, in a minute Clark and Martha brought the food and set it in front of Bruce. And the billionaire had to admit, if only to himself, that it looked absolutely astonishing. The nice, appetizing smell of the steak almost made Bruce's mouth water. He let himself to be serviced first with the delicious chicken gumbo soup and then Clark gave him the steak and potatoes.

The billionaire was used to the best but the soup was very good even to his standards.

"It's good," he said, feeling like he should compliment.

Martha's face lit up and Bruce knew exactly from who Clark got the smile.

"Just wait until you taste the steak," she told him and then, with a little mischief in her eyes, she added: "Clark makes the best steaks."

Bruce raised his eyebrows and looked at the said man who was currently blushing. "You can cook?"

"A little," Clark admitted, suddenly finding the vegetable on his plate very interesting.

"Oh, please," Martha laughed. "I couldn't get him out of the kitchen when he was young. He always wanted to try everything after me and help."

Bruce felt how a small smile grew on his face. He had not expected the alien to be skilled in kitchen. With even more appetite, he tasted the steak.

It took a lot of his self-control not to moan when the flavors melded and married together to form a perfect union that played well on Bruce’s tongue. “It’s pretty good.” He murmured when he noticed how Clark was watching him, waiting for his opinion.

Bruce was exactly three bites in when he asked: “What is that sauce?” It was so good even his tongue started to feel strangely itchy.

“It’s peanut sauce! Family recipe.” Clark declared, beaming at him like a sunshine and Martha was already celebrating victory in her mind. That victory was, however, short-lived, as she noticed Bruce’s face paling.

“Peanut?” he asked, sounding strangely wheezy.

“Yes,” Martha frowned worriedly. “Is that a problem?”

“A prob-“ Bruce’s face quickly changed color from white to red and he started to choke.

“Bruce?” Clark asked, his eyes widen with fear and shock, and the other man continued to be more and more red and hit the table with his fist several times, clearly trying to tell them something.

“Dear God!” Martha called when she finally realized what was going on. “Clark call 911 immediately, he has anaphylactic shock!”

“C-C-Car-“ Bruce choked out desperately, his hand moving to his throat as if he could stop it from swelling.

Clark caught up immediately and flied to the car, looking for epinephrine.

In the end, Bruce survived, but was forced to stay at the hospital. Clark looked to be far more shaken by this experience than him and Martha spent several hours comforting him. When he finally fell asleep, she called Alfred and gave him a piece of her mind about the fact that the butler did not inform her about Bruce Wayne’s allergy which almost resulted in the billionaire’s death and surely resulted in failed first attempt to get the two idiots together.

 

**2.**

Second attempt was much more thought-through.

Clark had brought a woman named Lois Lane home as a friend. Martha had quickly come to like her and then, after she had assured that Lois was a good friend to her son, introduced her to the plan. The journalist had been thrilled to help.

When Perry offered her to go to Gotham for one of their social event in the form of charity ball, she had refused and convinced him to send Clark.

Lois and Martha then called Alfred so he would convince the billionaire to go there. It had been very clear the man didn’t want to but Alfred told him that if he wouldn’t he would call Dick and told him how difficult his adoptive father was.

Bruce ended up growling and rumbling the whole evening as he was getting ready for the ball but he later that evening he allowed the photographers to take a picture of him, smiling and waving at everybody, and ignored the questions about if he felt old and if he was going to settle down.

Around the same moment, Alfred was letting Martha Kent in the Batcave so they could listen to the conversation between the two superheroes thanks to the earpiece Bruce had kept in his ear in case something had happened and he would need to talk to his butler.

“Mr. Wayne!” Alfred heard Clark’s voice and he and Martha clinked their glasses full of wine the butler had poured few moments in victory – it wasn’t like Master Bruce was going to notice one bottle missing however expensive it could be.

“Oh I remember… what was the name…?” came Bruce’s voice, sounding drunk, but Alfred knew better. He also informed Martha about it so she wouldn’t think he was trying to set her son up with a drunkard. “Krent? Krant?”

“Clark Kent, Daily Planet!” there was a certain glee in Clark’s voice – he clearly enjoyed Bruce’s act. “Would you mind if I asked about your opinion about the change in Batman’s behavior?”

Alfred grinned. He truly started to like this guy.

“I don’t know,” Bruce said in cheerful voice. “Are you sure I have enough of brain cells to answer this question? I mean…. I do drink a lot and today’s not an exception.”

Alfred could imagine the grin on Superman’s face when the reporter answered: “Oh, I do think that you are actually very intelligent, Mr. Wayne. Perhaps if you only stopped drinking so much, you could even match Batman’s intelligence yourself.”

“They are flirting,” Martha whispered and drank the rest of her glass, too happy to care, and poured some more.

Alfred was just about to say that they in fact were when there was a loud _BOOM_ in the background. Both Alfred and Martha stiffened and listened. There were loud noises, mostly screaming and panic.

Over it all, Alfred head very familiar voice: “Helloooo, good citizens of Gotham! I hope you are having a great evening! I certainly am!”

“Bruce, are you okay?” Clark whispered but loud enough for Bruce and thus Martha and Alfred to hear him.

Bruce only grunted grumpily in response. “Alfred,” he said into the com, sounding broom. “I need you to deploy the Batsuit to me.”

“Right away, sir,” Alfred said, barely keeping his disappointment from his voice.

He turned the com off and looked at Martha. “I’m afraid our little plan will have to wait.”

She just sighed and poured her glass again for the third time.

 

**3.**

“What are you thinking about?”

Lois looked up from her bed where she was working, or rather not working, on the article she was supposed to submit tomorrow. It was already night outside of her small apartment and she didn’t bother with turning the light.

She heard a sound of door being opened and looked up. Diana was standing in the door to the bathroom, wearing only Lois’ bathrobe. She looked absolutely stunning. “Is something bothering you?” she asked worriedly.

Lois sighed, shut the laptop, and said: “It’s nothing, just…” she didn’t finish the sentence, suddenly feeling very ridiculous. It wasn’t like she could tell or decide who Clark should date.

Diana smiled softly and walked to the bed, and gently caressed Lois’ hand. “You can talk to me.”

“It’s really nothing just… I talked to Clark’s mother and-“ Lois quickly stopped when she noticed the strange look Diana was giving her for a second. “Oh, no, it’s not like that! We’re not dating anymore and I don’t think we’ll ever be again. But I spoke to her and then I spoke to Alfred – Bruce’s butler – and we thought we could try to set up Bruce and Clark… like in a relationship. But so far, the plan never goes as expected.”

Diana was looking at her with thoughtful expression, then she grinned. “Maybe, I could help, too. I have an idea…”

 

* * *

 

“No,” Diana declined. She was standing in the hotel at the reception with Clark and Bruce. They needed to go undercover to find one of the Lex Luthor’s former associates in Central City and Alfred had arranged them two rooms in the hotel – under false identities for Diana and Clark, of course. Bruce wanted to pretend he was with Diana but now it looked like there were going to be some troubles with the plan.

He smiled at her while Clark was nervously looking around if they someone paid them more attention than was good. The billionaire asked: “What do you mean ‘no’?”

Clearly, Alfred had arranged the rooms as Bruce had told him so but there was a catch – one of the rooms was with only one bed and the other one with double-bed. At this time, however, they could not change the room, and so Bruce had offered to be with Diana in the room with the double bed. She refused.

“I mean that I do not plan to share my bed with you,” she said simply, trying to keep her lips from smiling. Then, she confidently walked to the receptionist and asked for the key to the room with one bed while Clark and Bruce awkwardly stood there for few minutes. Then, they exchanged confused looks and followed her example.

“We will take the key, please,” Bruce said sounding smooth but Clark could hear his nervous heartbeat. The receptionist looked first at him, then at Bruce, and then she gave them the smuggest smile Bruce had ever seen. When he realized what that expression meant, he felt blood rushing to his face but he didn’t bother to explain her that he and Clark weren’t something more than friends. Instead, he looked down and waited until she gave him the keys. Then he walked away without any other word.

The room was too small to Bruce’s usual standards and there truly was only the one big double bed.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Clark offered.

“No. I’ll do it.”

Clark scowled at him. “No. You are a normal and-“

That wasn’t the smartest thing to say to the other man because Bruce’s eyes sparked with danger and he frowned. “Normal?”

What followed was an hour long argument during which both men were trying to convince the other to take the bed, and Alfred, Martha, Lois and Diana listened to the bug Alfred had put into the room, rolling their eyes and face-palming themselves. It was a small miracle that the argument hadn’t end up in a fist fight.

It ended up, however, with both of the men laying awkwardly on the small bed, putting between their bodies as much space as was possible.

“For God’s sake, why are you so damn hot, Clark?” Bruce growled suddenly.

There was a long, tense pause after his words. Then, Bruce almost nervously gulped and corrected himself: “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that your body is hot… It produces a lot of heat.”

Another pregnant pause.

Then, Clark, feeling like he should react in some way, said: “Okay.”

Yes, Bruce thought, definitely awkward.

“Well,” Bruce found small comfort in the fact that Clark sounded almost as nervous as he was feeling. “I can’t change that I’m hot.”

It was so awkward Bruce wanted to laugh hysterically.

Finally, Clark broke the silence. “That sounded weird.”

Bruce grumbled: “You think?”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the night and they didn’t sleep either.

Alfred had to admit that even this attempt hadn’t worked out how exactly he had planned.

 

**4.**

Bruce frowned. “What do you mean you can’t open the damn door?”

“Well, usually, when a person says they can’t open a door, it means they can’t open the door, sir,” Alfred answered dryly into the microphone and Bruce growled.

There was a group of thugs closing around the car and it just wouldn’t open no matter what he did. He couldn’t even give them an electric shock either because they kept their distance and were still out of his reach. One of the thugs threw a rock at the car and Bruce gritted his teeth. That one was going down first.

Of course, Alfred shut the system of Batmobile down himself but Bruce’s didn’t need to know that.

“Do something about it!” Bruce ordered. “Call Oracle!”

“Do I have to remind you that Miss Gordon is currently on a date and thus not to be disturbed unless is absolutely necessary? You should follow her example sometimes.”

“Alfred!” Bruce snapped warningly but as usually, his voice seemed to have little to no effect on the butler.

“Don’t worry, Master Wayne,” Alfred told him calmly. “The help is already on the way.”

“Who?” Bruce asked, hoping it would not be Dick.

“I called Master Kent.”

Bruce’s face turned red with anger… or at least that was what he told himself. “You what?!”

“I called Master Kent,” Alfred said in that annoyingly calm voice. “He should be there any moment now.”

Bruce wanted to tell him something very, very offensive the butler would not approve of when suddenly he heard the now familiar sound that reminded him of sky cracking open. He looked up and there he was. Clark came down in all his glory, making his stupid superhero landing, and effectively scaring off at least half of the thugs.

The billionaire only scowled at him disapprovingly but everything he had accomplished was making Clark grin at him like an idiot before flying to the side to punch few of the thugs in the face.

“You didn’t need to call him,” Bruce grumbled into the comm, perfectly aware that the Kryptonian could hear him.

In the matter of seconds, Clark was finished.

“And how exactly is he planning to get me out of-NO!” he yelled when Clark grabbed the door but it was already too late – the alien yanked it open and threw the door aside as if the Batmobile was nothing but a child’s toy.

Bruce gave him sour look. “You just destroyed my car.”

“I’m trying to help you,” Clark frowned. “Alfred said you were becoming desperate because you couldn’t get out of the Batmobile.”

Bruce gritted his teeth. “I’m never desperate. I would’ve driven the car to the Batcave and I would find out what’s wrong there.”

“Oh,” Clark had at least the decency to look ashamed of his actions. “I’m sorry.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes at him, completely merciless. “The repair costs are very expansive.”

“I don’t think I have enough money to pay for it,” Clark rubbed his neck nervously for a second, then his expression lit up. “But I could invite you for a coffee.”

The Caped Crusader blinked nervously several times before saying with a hint of panic in his voice: “No.”

For a moment, he could swear he heard Alfred hiss through the earpiece but before he could mention it, the butler asked: “Are you sure, Sir? I’m convinced the world won’t come to an end if you take a night off.”

“I’m sure of it,” Bruce put his foot down. The car missed Clark only by few inches and when Bruce looked back, he found out Clark had a confused expression on his face. 

The billionaire did his best to ignore the blushing he felt on his face and the cold air blowing in his face.

 

**5.**

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne,” Clark rose up from his chair and smiled at the other man.

Bruce gave him his usual, playboy smile he always wore when he was in his ‘Brucie’ persona.

The billionaire stretched out his arm to shake hand with the reporter, saying: “No, thank you! It’s always great when a good and trustworthy reporter is going to write an article about me.”

Clark’s ears turned red and Bruce felt the corners of his lips itching to smile.

“Would you mind if I walked you out?” Bruce asked almost flirtingly but in the last second he managed to keep it from his voice.

“Oh, no,” the reporter took his bag. “If that’s what you wish.”

In comfortable silence, they walked from Bruce’s office to the elevators and pushed the buttons. It was already night – they were both busy with superhero stuff and saving their cities but Clark seriously needed to write the article or Perry would “kick his sorry ass back to Kansas” as he put it and so Bruce agreed to meet with him at the Wayne Tower.

They entered the elevator together and Bruce was so kind to push the right button. They were alone.

“That bruise on your back looks terrible.” Clark commented.

Bruce frowned at Clark disapprovingly, easily slipping from his Brucie persona and clearly not happy with where their conversation was going. “Now you are looking what I have under my clothes?”

“No, I…” the reporter paused to compose himself. “You were in my city, chasing Joker and you threatened me not to help you with a piece of Kryptonite. The only thing I could was watch over you.”

“It wasn’t needed,” Bruce growled.

“You almost died in the explosion!”

Bruce only growled, not bothering to say anything.

“If I hadn’t dragged you out of-“

“I had it under control.”

“Oh,” Clark snapped at him, frowning deeply. “So I guess you would just crawl your way out of there?”

“I-“ Bruce couldn’t say the rest of the sentence because the elevator suddenly stopped but not at the wanted floor.

They stared at each other for few seconds. Then Clark asked: “What was that?”

“Obviously, the elevator stopped.”

Clark frowned, then stepped to the console and pushed the button to let the technicians know there was a problem. Neither of them spoke for few following minutes but the technicians didn’t respond and they ended trapped in there together, in tight space and tense atmosphere.

“Should I do something about this?” Clark asked with raised eyebrows, not being able to stand the silence.

Bruce shook his head. “There is a security camera in here. If you used your superpowers, it would be recorded.”

They continued to stand there awkwardly for few minutes. Then, Clark looked at Bruce again and said: “You don’t have to do everything alone, Bruce. We’re friends.”

Bruce looked up from the floor, too surprised to answer right away and stared into Clark’s eyes for few long minutes. He felt blood rushing in his veins and his heartbeat quicken under the soft yet intense look the alien was giving him. Bruce wanted to look down because he was scared he would lose himself in Clark’s beautiful, deep eyes, but they were fascinating and hypnotizing, and he couldn’t stop looking. He wanted to do unspeakable things with the alien. Then, he opened his mouth, not even sure what he was going to say but in the end it didn’t matter because in that very moment the elevator moved again and the familiar voice of Lucius Fox came from the speaker on the elevator console board: “Mr. Wayne, it looks like your elevator has been sabotaged.”

The billionaire raised his eyebrows, grateful for the excuse to leave the subject, and answered: “What?”

Somewhere in the Wayne manor, Alfred groaned and along with Martha Kent, they threw their arms in the air in defeat. Later that night, Alfred called Lucius to inform him just what the man ruined.

 

**+1.**

“We’re getting nowhere,” Martha said, sounding tired. She was currently washing the dishes with the phone on her shoulder.

“We will come up with something,” Alfred assured her or himself, he didn’t know yet.

He heard Martha sigh before she murmured: “I hope you’re right.”

She hung up and Alfred hid his face into his palms. The truth was he was getting desperate. No matter what they did it, it had ended either with a catastrophe, awkwardness, or Bruce running away.

Alfred looked at the clock above the kitchen sink. It was around 10AM which meant he needed to get back to work. He prepared the usual breakfast – toast, coffee, bandages – and headed upstairs, to Bruce’s bedroom. The vigilante had been out very late last night and Alfred hadn’t met him before he had gone to sleep and so he wasn’t sure what to expect.

The butler climbed the stairs and walked to the door. He knocked exactly three times before he pushed the door open and entered the room.

Immediately, his eyes widened. Bruce, as usually not being a morning person at all, groaned. That wouldn’t be surprising. What was surprising, though, were piece of his Batsuit scattered on the floor along with blue suit and red cape. Another shocking thing was the presence of a man in Bruce’s bed. He and the billionaire were lying there in strange tangle of limbs until Clark Kent’s head popped up into Alfred’s view from the blankets and his eyes confusedly looked around the room.

When his and Alfred’s eyes locked, it seemed like the time froze around them.

Clark’s eye widened and he stared at the other man. He looked like a deer in headlights.

Then. “What the hell, Alfred?” Bruce grunted. “It’s too early.”

At any other day, Alfred would make Bruce get out of bed no matter what it would cost and then he’d force some food into his master. But right now, Alfred was too happy to care. He made sure he didn’t smile – mainly because he enjoyed the absolutely terrified expression on Clark’s face as if the alien was scared Alfred would go for his shotgun and try to kill him – and then the butler set the tray with breakfast on the small coffee table in front of the fireplace.

“Very well, Master Bruce,” he said and left the room.

Over the closed door, he overheard Clark’s voice: “Do you think he saw us?”

Bruce grunted. “You’re naked in my bed. What do you think?”

“Oh.”

“Just let it go and kiss me again.” Bruce murmured, too sleepy to care what he just said. “That’ll be more productive than worrying.”

Alfred heard Clark chuckle: “Whatever you wish.”

The first thing the butler did was sending Martha, Lois and Diana text “Mission accomplished.”

That day, nothing could stop the four of them from smiling.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Champagne Effect](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6532429) by [JustAJellyfish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAJellyfish/pseuds/JustAJellyfish), [obsessedauthorchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessedauthorchan/pseuds/obsessedauthorchan)




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